


And How Do You Say I Love You?

by getoffmybarricade



Category: Les Miserables
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Combeferre centric, Enjolras is a good friend, Hospitals, Loneliness, Lots of Angst, M/M, Modern AU, Panic Attacks, Sadness, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love, ish, maybe a tiny bit of fluff, possibly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getoffmybarricade/pseuds/getoffmybarricade
Summary: “You are the Emergancy Contact of Courfeyrac and we have to ask you to come straight to the ER, please.”He felt his heart drop to his stomach, his eyes prickle with tears.“Why?” He asked, voice barely more than a whisper. “What’s going on?”And there they were. The five words that caused his entire world into self-destruct.“There’s been a car accident.”Combeferre thought that his only ever love being wiped from his life would be the worst thing that could happen to him. And it was. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t and what followed was a result of a heart full of grief.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac, Enjolras/Courfeyrac, Enjolras/Grantaire-minor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	And How Do You Say I Love You?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have literally no idea how hospitals work, sorry  
> Please don’t hold that against me :)

Combeferre and Courfeyrac were the perfect couple. 

That’s what everyone said. 

That’s what everyone said even  _ before  _ they got together. 

And the day they did had been the best day of Combeferre’s life. 

He had gotten a call from Courf at about five in the morning, asking him to meet him on the beach front whilst the ABC were abroad in Italy. 

And then, to his delight, Courfeyrac had tackled him to the ground, pressed a kiss to his forehead and asked him to be his boyfriend. 

(Combeferre hadn’t even had to think about his answer).

And since that morning he had continued to receive random, bubbly phone calls from Courf at almost any point in the day. And after five years of this he had come to expect the most bizarre of greetings when he picked up any calls. 

He even changed his ring tone for Courfeyrac to his favourite song. Just for him. 

And then two years ago he had woken up with Courfeyrac gone from their bed and an orange sticky note telling him to meet him at the rose gardens, a fifteen minute walk from their shared apartment. 

So he had. Without a moments hesitation. 

And when he had arrived it was to find Courfeyrac settled under their favourite tree, blossom gently fluttering from the branches as the May breeze unsettled them. Combeferre remembered the bright yellow shirt Courf was wearing; the one with the little black duck on his breast pocket. 

They’d talked for hours on end; people-watching, laughing at the man that fell backwards into the fountain and eating the picnic full of their favourite foods that Courf had made earlier. 

And then he’d reached into his pocket and pulled that box out. 

The box with the ring. 

“Ferre,” he had said, tears glistening in his eyes, “I’ve known you my entire life. I had my first crush on you when we were seven and we found that baby squirrel in my back garden and I fell in love with you so many years ago I can’t even pin-point it. But I love you with all my heart and being and I want nothing more than to spent the rest of my life with you. If you want to, of course. But what I’m trying to say is: Ferre, will you marry me?” 

And he was aware that at least six people in the gardens were watching them but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he squealed out a  ‘ _yes!’_ And threw himself onto the other man. 

It was the first time in his life that he truly understood the power of love. 

So, yeah. Combeferre was absolutely, disastrously head-over-heels in love with Courfeyrac and he just couldn’t imagine living his daily routine without the spontaneous bursts of energy his boyfriend would bring. 

So when everything suddenly changed that day in June, it didn’t feel real. 

Not for a very long time, anyway. 

He had been on his way home from work, night beginning to fall, when he had felt his phone buzz in the back of his pocket. 

He could hear the muffled sound of Courfeyrac’s ring tone playing and he really couldn’t help the grin that stretched out on his face. Work was stressful and this was always the highlight of his day. 

He connected the phone to his radio speaker,expecting to be greeted with that cheerful voice rambling about some new fact that he learnt, or something exciting that happened in the last hour. 

‘ _Hey Ferre! Did you know that a chipmunks cheeks can expand up to three times the size of its head? Imagine if we could do that! I bet I could, should I try it when we get home tonight?’_

_ ‘You’ll never guess what I saw today, Ferre! Try guess! Wait never mind I’m going to tell you anyway-“ _

So when the voice of someone else, a woman, began to speak and it was safe to say he was very confused. 

“Is this Monsieur Combeferre?” The woman asked, her voice calm and steady.

“Yes? Who’s this?” He asked, panicking a little. He knew he was being irrational. It was probably Courf’s boss or someone, there was no need to worry. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his eyes fixed on the road, ignoring the way his heart sped up even so. 

“My name is Fantine. You are the Emergancy Contact of Courfeyrac and we have to ask you to come straight to the ER, please.”

He felt his heart drop to his stomach, his eyes prickle with tears. 

“Why?” He asked, voice barely more than a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

And there they were. The five words that caused his entire world into self-destruct. 

“There’s been a car accident.”

~~~~~~~

So now there he was, sat impatiently in the waiting room that he had literally just left after a ten hour shift whilst Enjolras rested his hand on his knee. 

“Hey, he’ll be alright.” Enjolras said. His voice was calm but there was something making his lip tremble and his hand shake ever so slightly. “Its Courfeyrac, of course he will.” 

Combeferre nodded but said nothing, holding onto that hope. Truthfully, he didn’t really think that anything terrible would come from this, no more than a few broken bones, but...

Well. He tended to overthink a lot of things. Most things, actually. 

“I’m getting a coffee,” he said eventually, standing up despite the wobbly feeling in his legs. “Want anything?” 

Enjolras shook his head but gave him a grim, strained smile and turned back to staring at the wall blankly. Combeferre bit his lip, debating whether or not he should leave him, but decided he would only be gone for afew minutes at the most. He turned on his heel and wandered down the hallways, wrinkling his nose at the sterile smell of disinfectant. 

He spent practically all his time at this hospital, half the time actually having to patch up his friends who would manage to hurt themselves in the most ridiculous ways, but he had never felt that dread knowing it was one of them surrounded by doctors and nurses and hooked up onto a multitude of different machines. 

He made himself one of the usual, crappy coffees that the hospital served and followed the same route he knew so well back to the waiting room. 

“Combeferre? Why’re you still here?” He turned around to see one of his work friends, Valjean, stick his head out of the door. “I thought your shift ended an hour ago? Surely they’re not keeping you back again?” 

“No, no, they’re not keeping me,” he laughed faintly, “I’m, um, I’m waiting for a friend.” 

“Ah, alright.” Valjean said, scratching at the stubble on his chin, “I was just wondering if they might have called you back in for that boy in the car accident.” 

Combeferre felt his heart plummet to the ground, but Valjean didn’t seem to notice and carried on rambling. 

“Pretty banged up he was, completely unconscious with this massive gash on the side of his face. Suspected brain damage, though I don’t think I was supposed to tell anyone that-“ 

He broke off suddenly, seeing the tortured look on his face, a hand immediately going to cover his mouth. 

“Shit,” he whispered, blue eyes widening with realisation, “Oh, you’re not here for him are you?” 

Combeferre didn’t answer, his drink slipping out of his grasp and splattering over the floor and his shoes. He took off down the corridor, ignoring Valjean’s shouts, his panic only threatening to explode as he realised Enjolras was gone. 

“Enjolras,” he gasped, looking around wildly for him. “Enjolras,” he could feel his chest tightening and his eyes prickle with tears, a lump rising in his throat. 

“Enjolras?” Someone said, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. He whipped around, suddenly face to face with a woman who he vaguely recognised. “The blonde one?” 

He nodded and the woman beckoned for him to follow, leading him to the left and down a row of doors, finally stopping at one nearest the end. 

“He’s in there with Courfeyrac. He’s awake, but he’s not saying much. Press the button on the side of his bed if you need anything.” 

She pushed open the door and he hurried inside, immediately spotting the two. 

Enjolras turned around at the sound of the door opening, his eyes shiny with tears. He was holding tightly onto one of Courf’s bandaged hands, sat in the chair next to his bed. 

And Courfeyrac...

The entire left side of his face was discoloured and bruised, at least a hundred stitches holding together the wound that Valjean most have been talking about. His left eye and half his lip were badly swollen, several butterfly stitch strips near his right eye. His right arm was covered in plaster from the elbow down and a huge, dark bruise showed on his jaw. 

One of his eyes were open and he was looking blearily around, still unfocused and he was speaking in short, gasping sentences. 

“Courfeyrac, Jesus fucking Christ, what happened. No, don’t answer that. You probably don’t remember, but oh  _ fuck _ I was so worried. I don’t-“

He broke off as he took in the panicked look Courfeyrac was giving him, his brow furrowed as he looked between Enjolras and him, swallowing visibly. 

“What is it?” He said, rushing to his fiancé’s side. “Courf?” 

“I-I don’t-“

Enjolras sat up straighter, listening intently, but with his eyes fixated on Courfeyrac. 

“I-I don’t know who-who you...are.”

Combeferre stopped. He blinked. 

And then he let out a small, breathy chuckle. 

“How can you possibly make a joke out of any situation?” He said, a small smile on his face. He looked over at Enjolras, relived that they probably didn’t have to fear for the worst, but was met with wide, fearful eyes. 

“Ferre, I don’t...I don’t think he’s joking.” He whispered, his gaze falling back into Courfeyrac. 

“What do you mean?” His smile faltered, panic settling back in. He looked back at Courf, who was still staring at him with fear-stricken eyes. “Of course he’s joking.” 

But then it slowly dawned on him that, fuck, Courfeyrac’s eyes didn’t have that playful glint they always did when he joked. They weren’t sparkling like they did. In fact, and it pained him more than anything else, there was a blank uncertainty in them. The kind of uncertainty when a stranger, oh shit a  stranger , waves at you from across the street and mistakes your for someone else. 

“Courfeyrac, please,” he begged, dropping to his knees beside the bed. 

_ Suspected brain damage... _

Courfeyrac only seemed to frown deeper, looking over at Enjolras for reassurance. Enjolras tilted his head as if to say  _nothing_? 

Courfeyrac looked at him with wide, innocent eyes and shrugged, the small shake of his head almost going unnoticed. 

But Combeferre saw it. 

How couldn’t he? 

And how did he explain to Courfeyrac, the love of his life, that they were supposed to be getting  _ married _ ? How did he face his friends now? How could he be a part of their group and try to act normal, even if he reintroduced himself to Courf all over again, and pretend he wouldn’t be slowly wilting inside? 

Perhaps it wasn’t possible. 

No.  _No_. 

He was overreacting, he told himself. It could just be a temporary problem, it had to be, because he’d undergone scans and MRI’s and no one had found anything wrong with him.  _Suspected_ ,  they’d said. Not confirmed. 

By tomorrow morning everything would be okay and he could go back to normal. The scars and wounds on his fiancée’s face meant nothing to him. He was still Courfeyrac. His Courfeyrac. 

“Combeferre, can I speak to you?” Enjolras said suddenly, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

“No,” he choked out, “no, I’m staying here. I need to stay with Courf.”

“You’re scaring him,” Enjolras pressed on, a painful grimace on his face. “Ferre, he doesn’t recognise you. Not yet. Can we go outside for a moment, please?” 

A sob escaped his lips and he buried his face in his hands, taking his glasses off. Enjolras nodded his head towards the door and Combeferre followed him, still wiping tears from his cheeks. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” He asked, leaning against the wall, watching a group of people gesture wildly outside a door further down the corridor. 

“It’s...not what I was expecting.” Enjolras struggled, biting down on his lip, “but, I mean, if it was serious surely he wouldn’t recognise anyone?” 

“Okay, maybe,” he said thoughtfully, taking a deep breath, “how many people has he seen so far?”

“Just us two,” Enjolras said quietly. He sighed and drummed his fingers against his leg. “I can ask the others to meet us here and we can see how he acts? That’s...it would be fair wouldn’t it?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know. I just-I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Me get hurt?” Combeferre said skeptically, his usual calm demeanour vanishing completely. “Oh no it’s fine, don’t worry. The fact that my fucking fiancé doesn’t even recognise me doesn’t hurt at all.” He was all to aware of how his voice broke at the end of his sentence and he turned away to hide the tears that had begun to fall. 

He didn’t cry. He  _ never  _ cried. 

“Hey, don’t get angry at me!” Enjolras snapped. But then his expression softened and he slumped a little where he was stood. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not-fuck, where are the others?” 

If it had been any other situation, Combeferre would have said it was quite comical. Because just as the words escaped his lips, they heard a stampede of footfalls and turned around to see all ten of the abc hurtling round the corner. 

“-saw it on Instagram somewhere from one of his followers-“

“-my god I nearly had a heart attack when I heard the news-“

“-is he ok? Fuck, if he isn’t I swear-“

Too many people shouting at once and Combeferre suddenly felt like his head was about to explode. Why were they so loud? And why were they all looking at him so strangely, he realised. 

It felt like everything was spinning and the walls seemed to be closing in on him, the floor rising up to meet them. Someone’s hand flew out just as he felt his legs begin to give way and thankfully stopped him from hitting the ground as everything began to blur. 

Someone lowered his gently to the floor and he could hear someone speaking softly into his ear but it sounded muffled and underwater. 

“ _Ferre, will you marry me?”_

He thought vaguely that it might be Enjolras speaking but he wasn’t too sure. Then again, it could be Grantaire or maybe Jehan? His throat felt too tight to ask who it was. 

_ “I love you with all my heart and being and want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you...” _

“ Combeferre!”

Was that...was that Courfeyrac speaking? It was! It was! And he could see his face too, he was crouching down next to him, speaking to him. Oh, he must remember now! Maybe he  _ was  _ joking, or maybe he was just confused. He didn’t care, all that mattered was that he loved him. 

“Courf?” He mumbled, reaching out for his partner. “Courfeyrac?” 

“Ferre?” Why did he sound so confused? And why were his eyes narrowed, like he didn’t understand? And those...oh, they weren’t Courf’s eyes. His were dark, brilliant. These were blue...like Enjolras’s. 

And it wasn’t Courfeyrac’s face either. 

It was like something out of a movie, the face he had been so sure was Courf’s slowly fading and becoming more and more like the one of his blonde friend. 

“Courfeyrac?” He tried again, but this time his voice cracked with uncertainty. 

“No, it’s Enjolras. Ferre, can you look at me?” 

He closed his eyes again, the air feeling less stuffy. His friends must have left now, gone to speak to Courf. Like he would be doing if...

“What do we do, Enj?” He sobbed, “what are we supposed to do?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Combeferre has figured that in the weeks to come, Courfeyrac would slowly regain the memories he had. 

When he had been able to think again without his brain immediately going into self destruct he remembered seeing cases like this when he was on his shift. 

And they’d nearly always returned to normal within a week. 

Except-

Expect that one case from a few years ago. 

A little girl had fallen off her bike one summer, and when she had been brought it they’d not suspected a thing. She talked like normal, if not a bit subdued, but then one day her friend came to visit her and it was as if she was meeting someone new. 

The girl had had no recollection of her friend. 

But that wasn’t the worst part. 

The worst part was that she became unable to communicate with new people well and instead began to shut them out. Her parents had tried to reintroduce her friend but it made no impact. 

They never saw each other again. 

What if that happened to Courfeyrac? 

What if they would never be the same? 

It was nearly Christmas now, although it had never felt less like it, and they should be decorating the apartment together like they always did. 

But instead, Combeferre was staying late at the hospital working longer hours than ever. Of his own accord, obviously. 

He worked longer, painful hours everyday only to be able to catch a glimpse of the love of his life on those brief occasions when he would pass the room. 

They’d made sure he never worked in that corridor and that he kept as far away from Courfeyrac as possible. 

He tried to visit as much as possible and every time there was no sign of recollection past the brief encounters they’d made over the last few weeks. 

It wasn’t getting better. 

One day, only a couple weeks away from Christmas Day itself, Enjolras caught him on one of his later shifts. 

“Hey, Ferre.” 

Combeferre frowned and spun around, recognising the voice of his friend immediately. 

“Enj?” 

“Courfeyrac asked to see you.”

He dropped everything the clipboard he was holding. 

“What?” He croaked. 

“Not-not directly. He asked to see the doctor from the first day and I assumed he means you because he knows the name of the other ones. Come with me?” 

Combeferre nodded and followed Enjolras to the room where he knew Courfeyrac would be waiting. 

When he pushed open the door he felt the dark eyes immediately land on him. Courf pushed himself up against his pillows, looking so unlike himself that Combeferre almost backed out of the room immediately. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation wasn’t going to work in his favour. 

“You asked to see me?” He said quietly, unable to meet his gaze. He saw him nod out of the corner of his eye and felt, for the first time, a flicker of hope light up inside his chest. Enjolras grasped his hand momentarily next to him, and he heard his sharp intake of breath. 

“Supposedly I know you,” Courfeyrac said, and he could tell that he was trying to keep a kind tone to his voice. There wasn’t any disgust or skepticism in it, he could tell he was trying to be genuine, but there was a confusion that would he impossible to miss. 

Courfeyrac really didn’t know who we was. 

“How well?” He finished, breaking Combeferre’s heart into a million pieces. 

He turned immediately, not waiting to give him an answer. He couldn’t bear to. He couldn’t bear to tell him how much he loved him and not so much as earn a glimpse of that smile he knew so well. 

As the door swung shut behind him, he caught Enjolras’s soft reply when he thought he couldn’t hear him. 

“Only vaguely.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this wasn’t even going to be multi-chaptered but here we are  
> This...probably isn’t going to be a very happy fic and I have no idea what the ending will be so be prepared for sadness  
> Also this is my first Courferre centric fic so...was it okay? 
> 
> If you enjoyed PLEASE leave a comment? 
> 
> Also I’m not sure how regularly this will be updated but I have lots of ideas at the moment so probably quite soon :)
> 
> Thanks for reading I guess :)))


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